My Best Friend's Girl Ch. 02

I returned to my office, and worked through lunch. Somehow, committing adultery had taken away my appetite. As the afternoon wore on, I found myself sat in my office with impossible task of trying to concentrate on my work. I had a huge feeling of guilt. I’d gone around to Steve’s house to put things right after clumsily touching up his wife. Instead things had gone badly wrong, I’d broken the seal on Nicky’s oral and anal desires. What a complete shit he had for a mate! My mind kept presenting me with unwanted pictures and sounds of Nicky, in different positions of abuse. Amazingly, in spite of the guilt, these thoughts and images had given me an erection that I couldn’t get rid of.

The office was quiet at this time of day, and I had few distractions to help me lose my thought pattern.

“Penny for them,” said Stella, who’d just entered my office.

“Sorry?”

“I’ve been watching you, and you seem lost in thought.

“Yes sorry, I’ll get on with my work.”

“A penny for your thoughts. Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think so, but thanks.”

“Try me, what can you lose?” She said.

I paused, and then said,

“Well ok, I’ve got a friend who might be about to blow his marriage.”

“Heavy, what’s your friend done that’s so bad?”

“Oh the usual, he’s developed a taste for extra marital sex. He’s been monogamous for ever, now he’s turned into an immoral shit.”

“Maybe you’re being unkind to him.” Was I imagining her inflexion on him?

“No I don’t think so, you don’t understand.”

“Maybe I understand better than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look if I tell you something, you mustn’t tell anyone. Ok?”

“Of course.”

“A couple of years ago, I went to a party and allowed a guy to get a little bit too far with me. Only petting, you know what I mean? But, well, he got quite a long way.” Actually I didn’t know. Petting was one of those words that people used as a euphemism, and could mean practically anything. Quite a long way was a little more descriptive, but not much.

“Wow! How did you feel?”

“As you’d expect, I felt guilty. But I persuaded myself that I’d not actually had sex, so it was ok! But if I’m honest, I’d enjoyed it.”

“Yes, that’s pretty much what my friend is feeling. But I think that he’s in a little deeper. Have you ever gone further than that?”

“Oh god, I wish that you hadn’t asked me that. But, yes I’m afraid I have. At a travel convention last year two gorgeous guys followed me around and flirted for most of the day. They really spoiled me, you know, anything I wanted they got for me. Both of them flattered me outrageously and eventually the inevitable happened, they propositioned me. I’d known it was coming, and of course I refused. I told them that I was married. The only person I have sex with is Simon my husband, I told them.”

“That’s good, so what happened?”

“They said that Simon was a very lucky guy, and that they’d not wanted to offend me. They told me that they’d enjoyed spending time with me, and just wanted some intimacy to remember me by. I thought that was a lovely and gentle line. Don’t you? Anyway, I was so grateful for their attention and flattery, and I felt guilty for taking advantage and then refusing them, that I gave them both oral sex in one of the conference centre bedrooms.”

“Wow. What both at the same time?” I blurted out. In spite of his busy morning, my little companion was pushing hard at my waistband. He wanted to know the answer, and pushing at my waistband was his way of letting me know. I shifted in my seat, to avoid him letting Stella know as well. “Didn’t they want to go further?”

“Oh sure, sure. But they were good, and kept themselves to just a little petting while I looked after them.” There was that word again.

“Petting?”

“Yes, more or less. I’m sorry if I’m shocking you, or making you uncomfortable, but I’m only telling you because It might help your friend.” There it was again, I wasn’t imagining it. She knew exactly who my friend was.

“No you are helping, I’ll tell him. How did you feel afterwards?”

“Well to be honest, I felt dirty, a little fustrated, but very very horny. I settled the guilt by convincing myself that I’d not been unfaithful to Simon, I’d just given a couple of nice guys a little fun. You’re the first person I’ve ever told. I vowed never to do it again, except for money of course,” she laughed.

“How much money?” I replied, a little too eagerly.

“Oh I guess that a single user licence could be obtained for a five percent raise in salary.” This conversation should have stopped there. I was in a position of power, and I’d already given her a better pay rise than that. I just hadn’t got ound to telling her. However, the battle between my integrity and my little companion’s needs had seemingly been lost earlier at Nicky’s. So any thoughts of honesty evaporated in a fraction of a second, and quickly replaced with thoughts of a more unprincipled nature.

“You’ve got it,” I said. “It sounds very good value.”

“Got what?” Stella replied.

“You’ve got your five percent raise, no you’re worth more than that, make that seven percent.”

“Are you serious?”

“I guess so. Don’t you want me to be?” She paused and looked at me for a few seconds, then closed and locked the door and walked over to the corner of my desk.

“It seems that I owe you something,” she whispered, lifting the front of her skirt to reveal her legs in all their freshly waxed glory. A tight pair of white silk panties topped them. “Would you like to take delivery today?” This was becoming a rare day. Year’s of monogamy and integrity, ending in a day of casual sex with two friends wives.

I didn’t reply, instead I decided to find out what petting meant. My ‘little companion’ was keen to find out. Reaching out, I slid my hands up the back of her long smooth legs, until I reached her knickers.

“Mmm,” she said closing her eyes and letting her skirt fall, cutting off my view.

“No,” I muttered. “I was enjoying the view.” She ignored me, so I lifted her skirt myself and gazed longingly at her gorgeous thighs.

“You have the most gorgeous legs.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like them. I hope that I am worth my raise.”

Suddenly a klaxon went off in my brain, followed by a voice telling me:

“Oh well done, you complete shit! Spend the morning screwing your best friends wife, in places that he hasn’t even discovered yet. Why waste the afternoon? Why don’t you fuck up your closest workmates marriage?” The thought shocked me, and made me feel very ashamed. My hands recoiled from Stella’s knickers, much to the disappointment of my now vertical ‘companion’. Maybe he wasn’t in charge after all.

“No I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so forward, I thought you wanted to.”

“No, I did. I mean I do. Oh fuck! It’s not you, you’re very sexy, in fact you’re gorgeous. But I’m feeling very strange. I meant what I said, and you’ve got your raise. No strings, congratulations you’ve earned it.” I stood up and kissed her gently, “thanks,” I said, “But you’re better out of my nightmare.”

“Joe, you’re a fantastic guy, and a brilliant boss. Don’t beat yourself up over a small distraction. I know that you love Steph, and you know that too. If you have a little fun with someone else, and Steph doesn’t find out, then forget it. You can’t even cheat on me, so I don’t believe that you’ve cheated emotionally on Steph.”

Her words hung in the air, and kicked off another moral argument in my mind as she unlocked the door and went back into the front office. The good news; was that the last few minutes had totally occupied my thoughts, and my little companion had sensed defeat and withdrawn into his normal, dormant alter ego.

I just looked at the palms of my hands, which a few seconds earlier had been separated from Stella’s bum by a tiny piece of silk. I picked up my pen, and picked my way through some paperwork in an attempt to forget what had just happened.

4th October 2000

I hadn’t seen Nicky for almost two weeks. I’d reconciled myself to only seeing her socially. Sex with her had been fantastic, but I had Steph and Joe junior to consider. If Steph found out, she’d kill me. Or even worse, she’d leave me, and take Joe. In addition to my family life, I had my career to think of. Initially after our sex session I’d moped about at work, my mind elsewhere. It was the worst sales week since I’d taken over as manager. Stella had been unbelievably supportive, but she’d remained at arms length, allowing me the space to work through my problems myself. The only discernable difference from before our close encounter, was that her trouser suits seemed to have been retired and replaced by new mini-skirts. That provided a nice visual distraction during the normal day-to-day business drudgery, strictly on a ‘hands off’ basis. Gradually my control was coming back, and things were improving.

In contrast, life at home had been quite difficult. Even so, for whatever reason, life in bed with Steph had been comparatively lively. I seemed to want sex every time we got into bed, and Steph hadn’t complained. However my needs had changed, I now needed more than someone compliant; I wanted a participant. She came, and so did I, but was the earth moving? Not for me at any rate. I was racked with doubt. Was Steph just going through the motions to please me? She did seem to enjoy it, but not by the standards I’d experienced with Nicky, and those hinted at by Stella. Steph certainly had never called me awesome.

Life did seem to be getting back to normal though. Well, less complicated anyway, and for that I felt better. I seemed to be regaining control, and getting a little self-respect back.

After the weekly trip to the mall with Steph, we pulled into the drive and Steve and Nicky pulled up behind us.

“Oh sorry I meant to tell you, I’ve invited Steve and Nicky for a drink tomorrow. I thought that you’d enjoy a game of squash, you seem to have been a bit stressed lately.” My heart sank.

“Fine, no problem,” I lied.

“Joe, I’ve got an apology to make,” said Steve as he got out of the car. “I can’t make it tomorrow.”

“Too bad, are we still on for squash?”

“No sorry mate, I’ve picked up a part time job looking after security for a local building company. I’ll be touring the area keeping the watchmen awake.” He must have seen the disappointment on my face.

“Take Steph, I’m sure she’d love a game,” he said. Steph had begun to unpack the weekly shopping from the car boot, she looked up and said,

“Oh no I wouldn’t, I’ve got two hundred fairy cakes to make tomorrow for the Autumn Fair at school,” and held up two large bags of flour as proof.

“Take Nicky then, she’s been asking for a game and we’ve already paid the baby sitter. We were hoping that Nicky could still come to you for company, and a game of something or other.” Initially, I looked at Steph for help.

“Oh I’m not sure.”

“Go. It’s fine by me. You’ll only be in the way anyway,” said Steph.

“Ok Nicky?” said Steve. Nicky opened the car door and shouted,

“Steve, don’t do this to Joe, you’re embarrassing him. He doesn’t want to be bothered with me. It wouldn’t be a proper game, he’d just be teaching me.” Obviously, she was as worried as I was. We were both wriggling.

“I’ve no squash kit, no shoes or whatever you wear.” Steve dismissed her appeal, and said,

“Nip into town tomorrow and kit yourself out, I’ll earn enough on Saturday to pay for it twice over.” I looked at Nicky, she replied,

“Is that ok Joe?”

“Sure.., sure, of course.”

“Ok then, I’ll look forward to it. But where do you change, I’ll need to put on my face for coming over here afterwards.”

“The club is very plush, you’ve been there as a spectator,” said Steve. There are changing rooms. There’s even a luxury powder room that you can book in advance and have all to yourself. There it is then, you can play Joe at squash, and have a good night playing trivial pursuits, or something. Now I’ll feel much less guilty as I rake the money in. Joe I’ll need the car. Can you pick Nicky up?”

“Sure, seven thirty Nicky?”

“That’s perfect Joe, I’ll be ready.” Perfect! I thought. Just perfect! The perfect nightmare, but it was done now and I’d just have to control myself.

5th October 2000 19.25 hrs

I kissed Steph and promised that I’d be back by nine or nine thirty. I wasn’t really looking forward to the game, but Steph said that I’d at least get a bit of exercise while she made all those bloody fairy cakes.

I pulled up outside of Nicky’s house, and sounded the horn. She came out from the side door, carrying a hold-all with a couple of squash rackets attached and wearing a long, heavy, dark coloured coat, finished off by squash shoes.

“Sorry if I’m a little early.”

“No it’s fine, I’ve sorted the kids out,” she said, as she and her perfume climbed into the car. The long coat slipped open, revealing enough of Nicky’s bare legs to confirm that she didn’t intend to play in a tracksuit. She quickly adjusted it, and the view evaporated.

“No problem,” I replied.

“We’re not playing on one of the glass backed courts are we? I’ve never played squash before; I did play a lot of tennis, but never squash. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“No I’ll make sure that we take one of the other courts, except for match days, they rarely attract any spectators, so you don’t need to worry.”

“Will I need to get changed in a communal changing room? That’s not a problem, I’ve got my kit on, but I’d like to get dressed afterwards and do my make up.”

“Well for a tenner or so, you can book one of the powder rooms. They have full en-suite facilities, and you will have it to yourself.”

“That sounds good, will you sort that out for me?”

“Sure, sure.” I wondered how long would I be in the bar after the game waiting for her to put on her face. Whatever happened, I was determined to behave myself. Today hadn’t been my choice, or hers for that matter, and I liked my life now almost back to its uncomplicated, maybe boring, state.

When we got to the club, I introduced Nicky to the receptionist as Steve’s wife, and made arrangements for her to have the ladies powder room, fortunately it was free. As normal, my admission ticket was issued along with the usual leisure club flyer, which I filed with the others in the junk compartment of my bag. The arrangements, powder room for Nicky, boys communal for me, and a quiet court sorted out, I showed Nicky through to the powder room. We arranged to meet outside in the corridor, and I left her to get changed. Five or six minutes later, my squash kit on I returned to meet her. She was sat in the lounge area in a white squash dress, with matching ankle socks.

“Which court are we on?”

“Number seven,” I’ll show. I led her down the corridor into the area of the non-show courts. Number seven was the last one. We passed the narrow entrance of the stairway to the court viewing area. It had been made even more narrow by a builder’s trestle, and large tool chest. I explained that although the court had a viewing area, it was quite small and no one was likely to show up. The spectators tended to stick to the more glamorous glass backed courts.

We went onto the court, placed our belongings in each corner by the ‘Tin’ and I explained about warming up. Nicky was very attentive as I explained how to play. I couldn’t help but notice how attractive she looked in her fitted dress, with buttons from hem to the vee neckline. I tried to concentrate; in fact I was relieved when I saw that she’d obviously invested in a sports bra. It was successfully containing my tormentors, and revealing absolutely no cleavage. At least I might get through the evening without further embarrassing myself. I knocked a ball from the left side of the court onto her forehand, which she returned with interest. Clearly she had been no mug at tennis, she hit the ball very sweetly.

After four or five minutes of this we swapped over and we warmed up my forehand and her backhand. Again she found the ‘sweet-spot’ most of the time, and got the ball back nice and crisply. Occasionally, like most squash players, she hit the wall, or became trapped into the corner with nowhere for her swing. I was nice and warm, and ready to start hitting a few more difficult shots, so I suggested that she take the Tee and I would take the rear wall. This is a useful training routine, one player four or five feet in front of the other with more room and easier shots driving the ball into the corners for the other player to practice the more difficult shots. She started to play the shots from in front of me into each corner. I was finding them fairly easy to return, and was making sure that she had an easy shot to play, so these rallies lasted for quite a few shots. The downside, was that the only view available to me of Nicky, was a rear view. A view that began to work on me. She looked very attractive with her long dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and her long bare legs revealed courtesy of the short squash outfit. She was quite a nice distraction.

As she returned low backhand shots, her position affected a fine view of her new white cotton sports knickers. Stretching to retrieve the ball, her bottom looked perfect. I became better and better at delivering these shots to her, and consequently my view became more revealing, and more frequent. The more often she needed to play the shot, her pants stretched and tucked into her cleavage showing more and more of her lovely bottom. Like most women, she was conscious of this and regularly adjusted them. But the erstwhile view warranted my best endeavours to drop the ball in the perfect position as often as I could, and then enjoy my reward. There’s no harm in that, I thought, I’m only looking!

Eventually, mainly out of embarrassment for her receiving her shots in the same position, I suggested a game. First to nine, and she could have seven start. Points scored on either serve or non-serve would count.

“Ok, but you won’t be too gentle with me, will you?” she said teasingly. I smiled meekly. Behave Joe, I said to myself, before I had time to reply and get myself into trouble again. Her dress had begun to adjust to the change in temperature and her movements. The neckline was moist and the top button had become undone. Fortunately the sports bra limited any clear sight of my favourite breasts. The waist had ‘gathered up’, and the hemline now revealed much of her pants, for most of the time.

She served off and the game quickly reached eight all. The next couple of points involved lots of lets, where the point has to be replayed because we were too close together for a clean shot. This seemed to happen quite often, in spite of the size of the court. Eventually, Nicky played a super backhand and her dress flicked up to reveal the waistband of her pants, which was slightly lower than it needed to be. I got a nice view of her other cleavage.

In spite of my best efforts to behave, I was stirring noticeably. By the time I had recovered my concentration, the shot was passed me and she had won the first game.

“You let me win,” she said.

“No I didn’t, I was distracted.”

“By what? Don’t make excuses,” she chided

“Oh Never mind.”

“No tell me.”

“Ok champ, A fantastic cotton clad bottom, that’s what!”

“Ha ha. It serves you right then, you shouldn’t be looking,” she laughed.